


Experiment

by temptingnoon



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, DFAB reader, Dom/sub Play, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Kinktober 2017, Safe Sane and Consensual
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-02
Updated: 2017-10-05
Packaged: 2019-01-07 22:11:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12241614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/temptingnoon/pseuds/temptingnoon
Summary: It was just something you brought up casually as a joke, despite the very thought of it sending a rush of heat directly between your thighs. So when your boyfriend says, "Do you want to try it?", you two decide to try and experiment with this lifestyle for a month...just to test the waters.





	1. Clothes

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt list that I'm following: [here](http://mari-sinpai.tumblr.com/post/165695314498/youve-heard-of-inktober-now-get-ready-for-feel)
> 
> Chapters/prompts are not necessarily in linear order (story-wise).

"Alright, lemme see."

Ensuring that your phone's camera has sight of every single pair of panties you laid out for this moment, you slowly trail the camera over them, letting your boyfriend get a good view. You hear him humming in contemplation and just as you pass over a glossy black pair with a tiny, red ribbon, he gasps. 

"Stop." You do so immediately. "That's the one."

"You sure?"

"Sure as shucks. Put 'em on." 

McCree is the most polite man you've ever met. It's one of the reasons you get along so splendidly and most definitely contributed to your decision to enter a relationship with him. He's always quick to mind his manners and say his pleases and thank yous. Even with no change in the tone of his voice, the lack of 'please' and the confidence in his order makes you shiver. You're all too eager to follow his instructions.

Setting the phone down, you grab the undergarment, slipping them on. You admire yourself in the full length mirror across from your bed, pleased with His choice. Just as you reach for your phone, He interrupts. "No. Finish gettin' dressed for work. Then show me." 

Work did not entail anything particularly fancy - just a secretarial job for a small law firm while you finish up school. Still, there was a certain dress code to be adhered so that meant slightly more formal clothes. After getting ready, you flatten your dark pencil skirt down with your hands along your thighs, noting that your undergarments rub against the material of the skirt much more than your usual cotton pair. Picking up your phone, you aim the camera toward your face. "Okay."

"Lemme see."

"Huh?"

"I said lemme see. Lift up ya skirt." 

It isn't certain which you feel more: shame, embarrassment, or excitement. Deducing that it's a strange combination of all three, you do as you're told once more, angling your phone toward your crotch while pinching a tuft of the skirt in your free hand, slowly inching it up your thighs until your panties are visible. There's silence from the phone and you tense, wondering if the call fell through until you hear the low hum of His voice. 

"Mmm." The deepness of His vocals has you subconsciously pressing your thighs together. He must enjoy the view, as a breathy groan soon follows. "You look amazin'."

"Thank you." Your face heats up at His compliment, an action which confuses you. Jesse is never selfish with his compliments and observations. To hear it from Him now, though? In _that_ voice?

"Ready for work, are you?"

Your breathing picks up slightly, all too aware of your nipples hardening at the sudden rush of arousal that courses through your body and you're left wondering if you'll have to go to work hornier than a rabbit. "Yes."

He groans again. "During your lunch break, I want you to go to the bathroom and take more pictures. Send 'em to me. However many you want." There's a pause - maybe he's thinking all of this on the fly? In which case, makes you admire Him even more for agreeing to do this with you. "Do you understand?" 

In your excitement, you almost drop the phone at the mental images of you huddled in the small office bathroom, lifting your skirt to take pictures of your undergarments which will no doubt already be stained with evidence of your arousal. "Yes, Sir." 

"Mm. That's my girl." He chuckles. "Go on, now. Get. Don't want to be late for work."


	2. Chains

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You two don't always have the means to experiment to the fullest capacity at home...so you visit a place that can help enhance your experience. But thinking about something and actually doing it are two very different things...

Your hand squeezes His tightly as He leads you through the small, one story building. The lighting is different than any other place you've ever been: it's dark, only highlighted by the wall lights that glow a dim, wine-like red, and the hallway appears to stretch into a darkness that lasts forever. Your eyes glaze over His back, watching as black shadows and a deep, red wash move over His figure with each step forward. 

With each step, you pass a few different doors, all painted a sleek ebony color. While you can't hear clearly, your ears do catch note of the muffled sounds, drifting in and out of your hearing range as you walk past the different doors. Screams of pain, the crack of a whip, and, the sound that stands out to you most, the cries of unadulterated lust. You've only dreamed of being in a place like this - and now that you're finally here? You bring your shoulders in, feeling like the walls begin to close in on you and the sounds of strangers in various states of ecstasy to agony have your head spinning with fear of the unknown and doubts as to whether you were truly ready for something like this.

He must have sensed your hesitance; He stops walking and turns toward you, the calm of his gaze dropping when _he_ takes sight of your pathetic, frightened, and shaking form. Jesse drops hold of your hand only to grab onto your forearms, bringing you close and leaning down to whisper. "Hey. **Hey.** " The firm yet tender tone of his voice makes you tear your eyes away from your shoes and up at him, peeking from underneath your lashes. There's a quiver in your lip and you wonder if you're going to start crying in front of Jesse, ruining everything he'd planned for tonight. "You know we ain't gotta be here, right, sugar?" Jesse leans in to press a kiss against your forehead. "We ain't gotta do _anything_ if you don't wanna."

Your voice cracks when you speak. "It's..." You turn your head to look around at the environment you're both in. "I'm just...I know I want to do this but," you let out a small laugh mixed in with a breath that sounds suspiciously close to a sob. "God, Jesse, I'm so sorry. I'm just fucking it up tonight."

"Lord almighty, sweetpea, you ain't fucking anything up." The smile that spreads across his face lets you know he's speaking the truth. "The last thing I want for you is to feel uncomfortable. We can leave if ya ain't ready for this." 

Shaking your head, you grip his shirt. "No, I know I'm ready. I want this...it's just... _hold me, please?_ "

You don't have to ask twice. Jesse immediately grabs hold of you and presses you tightly against his frame, his strong, warm arms wrapping around you. You're being silly, but you feel like his arms keep you safe from the overwhelming sensation of foreign sounds and sights that frightened you so just a few moments before. Your eyes flutter shut as your head rests close to his chest, letting the steady and comforting beat of his heart lull you back to a state of relaxation. As Jesse lovingly pets your hair and gives you reassuring squeezes, you almost forget that the two of you stand in the middle of a hallway of a BDSM club. Your boyfriend has that ability - to just make you feel like you're the only two people to exist in that moment. 

"Just know that you can never disappoint me. You bein' happy and enjoyin' our time together is what matters the most to me." His words send your heart soaring and you finally let a few tears slip, smiling as they drip down and hit the floor with a muted splatter. 

"I love you, Jesse," you mumble against his chest. 

He hums his appreciation. "And I love you, honey bunch." 

You turn your head to look up at him. "It'll just be me and you?" 

It's a silly question - of course it will just be the two of you but Jesse seems to understand what you mean without you having to explain. He always does. It's one of the reasons you appreciate him so much - why you're so glad that your first time venturing into this lifestyle is with him of all people.

He cups your face in his hands, his thumbs gently brushing across your cheekbones and wiping your tears away. "Absolutely. Only you n me, sweetheart. And it's gonna stay that way. Always." 

You remain standing there for who knows how long - it could have well been an hour...or maybe a few minutes. The wetness of your eyes finally subsides and you smile, your right hand finding his left and holding it firmly. Jesse returns the smile when you nod and whisper, "I'm ready."

"Are ya sure, darlin'?" 

You give a firm squeeze to Jesse's hand as you answer. "Yes, Sir."

His presence, safe and comforting, adopts a new, more assured mood. He's still your staunch protector, still your haven in unknown territory. But He's also the liaison between you and your most hidden desires, selflessly holding that door open for you to venture through together. Leaning in, the fingers of His right hand delicately trace down your face as He towers over you. "You're so perfect." His impassioned whisper pierces you, loud and clear even among the noises surrounding you. Readjusting His grip, you two walk side by side down the corridor, letting the confident steps of His boots against the floor lead you into a new sense of security.

Soon, you hear the muffled tinkle of chains from one of the rooms...and it's suddenly not so distressing. It's just another sound - the sound of other people enjoying _their_ space. These are all just people, here to enjoy themselves, just like you. You're here with _Him_. There's nothing to be afraid of. He'd stop whenever you needed to stop. He'd continue only with your blessing. In this moment, He's your everything and you want nothing more than to begin this experience this with Him. 

\--

The door to your reserved room slowly opens to reveal an otherwise cozy space; gray, carpeted floors feel plush underneath your feet as He ushers you inside with a gentle push to the small of your back. The walls, painted a warm bronze color, help create a more inviting feeling that instantly relaxes you. The black of the curtains blocks out any sight from the outside world, ensuring your privacy. The main, overhead light is switched off but there are a few lamps around the room that create a soft glow. Their placement seems purposeful, as your eyes are instantly drawn to the item in the center of the room. The lights highlight the sleek, black leather finish of the large, wooden saltire cross. It stands there, so still and innocently lifeless. Yet, as your eyes rake over the cross, you feel so deliciously _filthy_ , knowing that in a few moments, it will be **you** strapped to those limbs: stretched, helpless, and prone to whatever He so wishes to bestow upon you. You feel the greasy heat of your arousal build between your thighs again, imagining his rough hands traveling up your body, only to wrap his fingers around your neck. You nearly reach your peak when you realize that you will no longer have to _imagine_ what that will feel like.

He closes the door with a soft _click_ and you turn to face Him. The door is locked and He turns to acknowledge you with a curt nod. He gives a quick gesture with His index finger, creating a 'z' pattern and you immediately know what that entails. You do as He commands, moving to a nearby chair and begin peeling your clothes off, your hands quick and messy as they shake with an eagerness that has you remembering how so very new and exciting this all is for you. His hands cover yours, halting your stripping. 

"You're mighty eager." His breath is hot against your cheek and from the shudder of His words, you can hear His excitement. He's just as excited to be here with you. "Lemme help you." 

He unwraps you like a present, taking His time with each article of clothing removed. Each prolonged drag of His fingers and scratch of a fingernail is purposefully used to rile you up. By the end of it, you're ready to beg Him to take you over the chair, needing to feel Him inside of you and quell the ache of denied release that's been steadily building. He holds you tight against His muscular frame, arm draped over you and taking purchase of each curve and dip of the front of your body, all the while groaning in your ear about how mad you drive Him. You've been naked in front of Jesse countless times, and even a few times while you two have been experimenting. But every single time with Him makes you feel like He's seeing your uncovered flesh for the first time. The way He grins or chuckles and whispers how much He desires you once He has you bare never gets old.

Your breath hitches when He moves His head in to press His lips against the pulse point of your neck, gently kissing His way down your shoulder and back. The scrape of His teeth against the sensitive flesh just underneath your shoulder blade has you whimpering. "Please." You sound so incredibly desperate but you're beyond the point of feeling shame. You **need** Him. 

With gentle guidance, he takes your hand and leads you to the x-frame. He helps you situate yourself against the padded steps on the lower limbs as you lay, belly down on the slightly slanted cross. The leather is cool to the touch and your nipples harden instantly against the material, causing you to whimper your approval. He takes His time, understanding that while this is all still new to you, you've been desiring this for so long. Being tied up is an action but being bound by your Dominant is a shared experience. He reaches out, grabbing hold of the leather restraint that dangles off the chain link which tinkles, the sound sending a shiver of anticipation running up your spine. 

"Arm." It's a small but concise order. You obey, lifting your right arm as He wraps the leather cuff around your wrist, giving you just enough slack to not be painful but enough restraint to give you that sense of restrictiveness that you seek from bondage. Soon, both your arms dangle from the chained cuffs and He does the same for your ankles. The length of the process is lost on you - all you know is you and Him. You: body excited to feel so helpless before him, heart swooning in knowledge that He would so selflessly give you what you need. And Him: body aroused at seeing you so vulnerable, and heart beating in knowing you trust him this much and that doing this makes you happy.

There's a quiet that falls between the two of you, with only the sounds of your breathing filling the silence. You have hardly moved but you're both panting like you've run a marathon. You stare at the wall and curtains ahead, finding the fact that you cannot see his expression in this position both oddly frightening and thrilling. 

"Comfy?" The sound of His voice, thick with lust makes you squirm, eager to see what He will do to you. 

"Yes, Sir."

The grip of his large hand settles on the side of your face, and you feel Him press flush against your backside. Already, you can sense His arousal behind you and you're only further turned on when you remember that it's _you_ that's the source of His desire. He groans, cupping your chin and tips your head back as He stands over you. His lips push against your temple and He inhales deeply, breathing in your scent. Your eyes drift shut, reveling in the closeness between you and Him.

"So damn perfect."

Your mouth drops open as He bites the top of your ear, and from your mouth spills out the loud, shaking moan that you've ached to release all night long.

You're imperfect, as all humans are. However, as you're here with Him, you can't help but feel like the most beautiful person in the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This got kinda emotional but I really felt like writing it. But I also think it's important when writing this sorta stuff. Sorry about the lack of 'sexy times'. 
> 
> ((also got pretty lazy b/c I find chains in bdsm pretty boring lmao))


	3. Public*

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The thought of being caught is far too much for you to handle...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *I interchanged the original prompt for another from another prompt list.

"Jesse." Your voice is small and you're well aware that you're breaking character but this something you haven't done before. "A-are you sure we won't get into trouble?"

With a reassuring squeeze to your covered shoulder, Jesse shakes his head. "Darlin', I promise you that ain't gonna let anythin' happen to ya. We'll be fine. Now, if you don't wanna do this, that's somethin' else entirely. Otherwise..."

You shake your head. "Otherwise, I'm okay. Just...a little nervous."

Jesse smiles. "I understand. I'd be lyin' if I said I wasn't a lil' nervous myself. But I'm here with you and I'm here to keep ya safe. Ya trust me, sugar?"

Of course you do. "More than anything."

"I'm glad ya do." His hands rub gently up and down your forearms, brown eyes meeting and staying locked with yours as if searching your face for the answer to his next question. "Good to go?"

He doesn't need the verbal confirmation; the relaxation of your shoulders, the deep breath you let out, and small smile you give him is more than enough to let him know that you're okay to continue with the scene. He takes your hand, leading you further down the gravel walkway that runs through the large, but otherwise mostly empty park. There's still a few stragglers, being close to ten in the evening. But with most of said visitors being late-night runners, the chances of being found by someone who would only pass by every twenty minutes is quite low. It isn't until He begins walking off the path and into the brush when your heart begins to beat faster and you shiver in your long, beige trench coat.

There's the light of a nearby lamppost that gives you two vision but other than that, the tall bushes and dark of night give you plenty of cover. He backs you into the trunk of a tree, his arms moving to lock you in place as they plant on either side of you. For a moment, He says nothing and with His back to the light, his front is encased by shadow and you can hardly see His expression.

"Close your eyes." His command is whispered and you nod, doing as you are told. With your eyes shut, all you can do is rely on your other senses to process what's happening around you - what's happening _to_ you.

You hear the soft chirps of crickets in the distance, the sound of the leaves overhead rustling with the evening wind, the beautiful yet eerie hooting of an owl somewhere among one of the many trees, and even the far-off sound of cars driving by from the road that follows along the park, reminding you of the scene and that you can still be caught in such a provocative situation. You also hear His breathing. At first, it was hardly there, but as the minutes rolled by, almost silent breathing turns into steady breaths, no doubt just as eager to be in this situation.

You smell the dew from the fresh, light rain from just that morning that sprinkles over the grass and leaves of the foliage around you, the earthy scent of the various scattered leaves that now litter the grass from the ongoing autumn season. You also take note of His scent: a mix of His own natural musk, cologne, and the tobacco that He likes to smoke.

And then suddenly you feel: His hands wrap around your neck but don't press down onto your windpipe. Instead, He trails His fingers down to the buttons of your coat and begins to unfasten them, taking His time in exposing your flesh to his view. With each button undone, the cold air of the fall evening hits your slightly damp skin, raising goosebumps and causing you to involuntarily shiver.

He groans softly and whispers once again. "Don't move."

Your body locks in place, obeying His wish. He finishes undoing each button and He spreads the coat open, revealing your fully nude body to Him. The article slips off your frame and falls to the ground as you feel the garment pool around your ankles. Instantly, the cool breeze of the night blows over your chest, hardening your nipples into stiff points and you're now highly aware of the slick heat that's accumulated between your legs. The sharp sensation of cold striking against hot is almost painful and you groan quietly.

"Look at you." His voice isn't condescending but He sounds amused. "A few seconds naked in public and yer already comin' undone."

His voice alone could have you spiraling toward nirvana but He must have other plans tonight. Suddenly, a strong hand grips your thigh and lifts it from the ground as its resettled on His strong shoulder. The action causes you to press against the trunk of the tree to support yourself. Its bark is rough and uneven, rubbing against the soft skin along your spine and you hiss, already feeling the ridges dig into your back. He's nestled himself comfortably between your legs and you feel His hot breath hitting your lower lips. The scratchy scruff of his beard tickles your labia and it's all you can do to keep from shoving yourself onto His face and rutting yourself to orgasm. You'd never do it...but even the thought of partaking in such an act and the punishment that would no doubt come afterward almost sends you over the edge. The fingers of the hand on your thigh press into your flesh while His free hand places itself on your hip, giving you a generous squeeze until He walks his fingers down to your inner thigh and back up to your cunt. As He does so, each press of His fingers digs into your skin and lingers a fraction of a second longer the further He goes along. It drives you mad, wanting to disobey His orders and wriggle in wanton abandon. His thumb finally reaches you and spreads you open. Your hand shoots up and slaps over your mouth, stifling the loud groan you release as you feel the slick dripping from your hole, that awful heat of your arousal combining with the natural cold air bringing you a flare of confusing painful pleasure.

"I thought I told you not to move." He tsks, as if scolding a child. "And here I thought you were a good girl."

"I am!" Your cry is strained, sounding more pained by the second. If you don't have His mouth on you within the next few minutes, you're _sure_ you'll meet your end. "I am, Sir!"

"Oh really?" His thumb lets your lips go and just as you're about to keen in frustration, the tips of His thick digit rubs teasingly along your slit until it penetrates your flesh, easily sliding in and already stroking your walls. "'cause last time I checked, good girls don't get excited from being buck-ass naked in the middle of a park."

One finger leads to two which has you writhing, trying not to push your hips and essentially fuck yourself on those wicked fingers of His. The callouses along His digits feel amazing as they rub the most intimate part of you. 

You start when His strong, heavy frame pushes against you, causing the uncomfortable bark to press even more into your back. Your leg slips from its place on his shoulder there's the rustle of leaves before His voice is suddenly at your ear, loud and clear. "Good girls, don't **fucking** move after being told not to."

There's a sob that rips from your throat when two fingers becomes three and His thumb finds a spot on your hardened clit. He curves His fingers inside, knowing exactly what He's doing as He's explored your body many times. And even though the act itself is nothing new, in this moment, it feels completely foreign and that much more enticing. His breathing is erratic like He'd been slamming his cock into you the entire time.

"So what does that make you?"

"Please..."

"That's right."

"Oh, please...!"

"That makes you a bad girl." He chuckles, the sound low and rumbling. He breathes in, moaning in your ear. "And you know what that means?"

"I'm cumming!" You shake your head, toes curling, and teeth gritting. "Oh! I'm, I'm-!"

"It means-" Just as you toe the line between release and your ultimate pleasure, He pulls his fingers out, the walls of your stretched hole clenching in confusion at no longer having the pressure of something inside. "Bad girls don't _get_ to cum."

The spots of white you saw at the corners of your vision disappear altogether and you want to _cry_ at the fact that you were so close. This is cruel. This is unfair. This is painful. You hate this. You absolutely _love_ it. You finally open your eyes to see Him smirking.

"I can't believe you were about to cum without My permission!" He shakes His head, leaning into press a kiss against your sweat-dampened forehead. "Well, we'll just have to stay here until you learn your lesson."

As He sinks back down between your thighs, your fingers entangle in His brown locks, dully staring off into the distance, the light of the lamppost becoming blurry with the haze of your sexual frustration. It's cold, you're sweaty, and your back hurts like hell. But you hope that this lesson will take you a while to learn.


	4. Begging*

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Begging may or may not get you the result you seek, especially with a seemingly distracted Dominant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *I interchanged the original day's prompt for another from a different prompt list. 
> 
> Note: some of these prompts may end up being drabbles/ficlets instead of vignettes, depending on my mood, inspiration, and energy.

Jesse has no trouble bringing you to an orgasm. However, in this state, He turns it into an art. How He's able to turn a completely mundane and unsexy activity like watching television into something that has you writhing and wanting more of Him is beyond your understanding. Maybe it's the way He's so nonchalant about what He's doing to you.

As He looks straight ahead, eyes focused on the large screen of the television, you're settled on one of his thick, strong thighs, legs splayed open with one foot supporting you on the couch between His legs and the other flat on the floor. While one of His hands is resting comfortably on the armrest, the other casually rubs your cunt, three fingers moving tortuously slow and occasionally, the tips of His rough fingers flick at your hardened clit.

You're a complete mess; He's had you in this pitiful state for what seems like an eternity, despite only having been in this position for as long as the game has been going on. You've almost reached your peak several times in the last forty minutes but each time you're about to finally experience sweet release, His hand would slow down, basically petting you and not giving you the stimulation you truly needed to cum. It drives you insane that He's basically denied you of an orgasm for so long but the way He appears so unperturbed by your struggle keeps you from being truly angry. You're His personal plaything, coming only when He wants you to, and you love every moment.

But right now? You need to come. "Pl-please, Sir." A shiver racks through your body as His fingers slowly begin to rub at you again, picking up in speed and pressing against you with a bit more pressure than just a few moments ago. "Please, may I come?" When He doesn't answer, you whimper. "M-may I move?"

He doesn't tear His eyes away from the television but He does move to acknowledge you with a kiss to your head that was resting back against His broad shoulder. "Just wait till after halftime's over, baby. Then ya can come. I promise."

The cheers and cries of 'touch down' from the game reach your ears and you find yourself staring at the television along with Him, watching in complete disinterest as His fingers cruelly begin to rub just a bit faster than before. You catch a glimpse of the tiniest grin on His face and you're left wondering if He's truly interested in the game and this all isn't some sort of excuse to just hear you beg for permission to come.


	5. Suits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You receive a gift from Him.

"It's ready."

Your heart skips a beat and your chest tightens as Jesse whispers these words directly in your ear. Turning your head, you regard him with a nervous smile, your tongue lightly flicking over your bottom lip that seems to have gone dry. "R-really?"

He could have smirked - could have continued to tease you into a stupor with his words alone. Instead, his gaze softens from playful to affection, as he pulls something out from behind him. "You bet."

Over the course of a few nights, you've watched him relentlessly research, buy, and prepare the materials for this special item he holds in his hands. It's such a small thing but remains a powerful icon and reminder of the sort of relationship you two share. 

"Should we put it on, darlin'?"

His suggestion requires no further action on his part; you're ready to allow Jesse to fasten the item onto you, moving accordingly so he can have easy access, legs squirming as you think about how you'll look once it's properly in place.

No matter how good the cool sensation of leather feels slipping around your neck, or how much you flinch at the cold of the metal fasteners passing over your skin, you don't look down as his fingers work to adorn you with this piece of Himself. Jesse is quiet during the process but his movements are loving. This is not a punishment or a crude statement of possession. It's a declaration - something you both discussed and saw to its fruition from the days it was merely a messy sketch design on some notebook paper.

He lets one arm wrap around your frame when he's done, leading you to the bedroom where there's a full length body mirror. Stepping inside, you don't look up at your reflection, not until you hear him gently call your name. Your eyes trail slowly up from your feet to your neck where your collar now sits. 

It's beautiful. The outside is a deep red color that only reminds you of the hue of the imprints left on your skin after a session or even after lovemaking - it's the red of the passion between you, if you wanted to be cheesy about it. Cheesy, but accurate. The small and golden heart-shaped locket dangles cutely in the front and as you lean in for a closer inspection, you can see a small engraving just above the keyhole that reads 'His'. Your cheeks warm considerably and a goofy smile spreads across your face. You didn't really _need_ that engraving but it felt good to see it there, nonetheless. Despite the fact that you'd never be seen with it on for anyone else to see, you liked having something that you could shove into people's faces if they got too handsy with you. 

The collar feels well-made, even for a beginner. You spot the few bandages on Jesse's fingers, remembering well when he's nicked himself with a cutting knife when he handled the leather or a needle when he was trying to sew the stitches. Your heart blooms for him and your hand moves back to seek his, your fingers interlacing. "I love it, Jesse...thank you."

Jesse smiles at you in the reflection, his free hand moving to trace his fingers along the edge of the collar before resting at your shoulderline, teasing the flesh there as he leans closer down to you, resting his head against your shoulder. "It suits you, darlin'."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm aware that the prompt probably didn't entail this but I didn't want to write about clothes _again _.__


End file.
